


A Change Would Do You Good

by opalmatrix



Category: DOGS - Fandom
Genre: Adrenaline, Arguing, Community: springkink, Fuckbuddies, M/M, Sexual Tension, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 09:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalmatrix/pseuds/opalmatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Badou's had enough of the same old stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Change Would Do You Good

**Author's Note:**

> Written for springkink. Prompt: Battlescars - "Try a little tenderness." Title from Sheryl Crow: [A Change Would Do You Good](http://youtu.be/Ikjmz_SlGhg). Beta by **[smillaraaq](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Smillaraaq/pseuds/Smillaraaq)**.

Heine's pulse was still throbbing with after-fight adrenaline as he pushed Badou down on one of the two mattresses in the little room they usually shared at the church. Sometimes this was what it took: hard muscle beneath him and boney arms around him and a strong hand stroking him to a shuddering climax. It wasn't what most people would call a relationship, but who cared?

"Forget it," said Badou, and pushed Heine off onto the floor.

"What the hell? You're just as hard as I am!"

"Yeah, well, my hand's always there if it gets too bad, you know?" Badou fished out his cigarettes and lit up.

Heine stared at him in disbelief. They certainly weren't lovers - hell, they were barely fuck buddies - but at those times when only another live body would do, Badou had always been there for him. "What's _with_ you, you idiot?

Badou was looking away from him. At this angle, his face looked whole, the black straps from the eyepatch an unnecessary but exotic adornment. He blew out a thin stream of smoke and rubbed absent-mindedly at his scarred hand. "It's nothin' that would make any sense to you."

"Try me, asshole."

Badou snorted. "Asshole yourself. It's not like you ever tell me what _you're_ thinking." He took another hit of his smoke. "It's always the same old with us, ain't it? A little groping, some wrestling, then off with the pants, hands on the dicks, and wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am. Th' hell with it."

"What, you want me to fuck you or something?"

"Goddamn, you're ever stupider than I thought. Look, I get the crap beat out of me all day, every day. Why the fuck would I want more of the same in my own bed at night?"

Heine growled softly. "I stick with you 'cause you're a tough little shit, even if you are a butt monkey. Now you're looking for hearts and flowers? Who the hell do you think I am? I'm not some wimp who wipes other people's noses for them."

"So the Bishop's a wimp?"

"That's what you want? Good luck with that, 'cause I don't think you're his type, Badou. Not even if Granny Liza finds a fancy dress to fit you."

"Shut the fuck up," said Badou, wearily. "I'm tired as hell." He snubbed out his smoke and lay back on the mattress, crooking one arm over his eyes. His arm, bare below his T-shirt sleeve, was blotched and streaked with fresh bruises and older marks, punctuated by the long scar that went right through his hand. Heine would never scar like that: Kerberos took care of it. And he would never know what it felt like to have had a real family, even if it were just an older brother, like Badou once had.

Badou's breathing was deepening and smoothing out, even though he was still hard in his jeans. The hand that lay on his lean, hollow stomach drifted downward to his crotch. He was just lying there, open and vulnerable, shielded only by his own arm and thin layers of denim and cotton knit. Heine was suddenly hungry, ravenous for him. He wanted to grab those long, wiry arms and dig his fingers into those bruises, to rip off Badou's clothes, hold him down, and bury his lust in that lanky body.

Bishop would throw him out. Nill would learn at last what he really was. And Badou would never work with him again.

Heine inched close to his partner, reached out to gently finger one of the bruises on his arm. It was hot to the touch. He licked at it and then slid his hand down Badou's belly, threading his fingers with Badou's over the bulge between his legs. Badou stirred and lowered his arm to look at Heine. "So I thought you were too tough for this tender shit?" he asked, his voice husky.

"I thought I'd give it a try, just this once," said Heine, and pressed his lips to Badou's.

 


End file.
